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The Mountain Goats: Love Love Love

Jim Emerson

(tip: @rcjohnso)

John Darnielle is one fine songwriter. I’m amazed at how people (mis-)interpret this song, from the Mountain Goats’ 2005 album, “The Sunset Tree.” Like many great songs, it’s open to a variety of readings. But it’s not a love ballad to love, love, love…

Teaching the controversy: Why won’t he deny raping and killing?

Jim Emerson

A new critical thinking meme: This web site features a grating parody of the “Leave Britney alone!” video at the top of the page, and proceeds to explain its purpose:

This site exists to try and help examine the vicious rumor that Glenn Beck raped and murdered a young girl in 1990. We don’t claim to know the truth — only that the rumour floating around saying that Glenn Beck raped and murdered a young girl in 1990 should be discussed. So we’re going to do our part to try and help get to the bottom of this.

Why won’t Glenn Beck deny these allegations? We’re not accusing Glenn Beck of raping and murdering a young girl in 1990 – in fact, we think he didn’t! But we can’t help but wonder, since he has failed to deny these horrible allegations. Why won’t he deny that he raped and killed a young girl in 1990?

Your User’s Guide to Movie Violence

Jim Emerson

UPDATED: Three more trailers (1997 & 2008) added below for comparison.

When Michael Haneke’s movie-star remake of his own “Funny Games” opens Friday, he claims it will pose a direct challenge to American audiences. (In my review, which will appear that day, I call his bluff and propose a few counter-challenges in the same spirit. Two — or more — can play at this funny game!)

If you’ve seen the 1997 version, you’ve pretty much seen the English language one, because it’s virtually a shot-for-shot recreation. Here, from the studio press kit, is what Haneke (whose “Code Unknown” and “Caché” I consider to be masterpieces) has to say about what he’s trying to do with “Funny Games”:

“I’m trying to find ways to show violence as it really is: it is not something that you can swallow. I want to show the reality of violence, the pain, the wounding of another human being….

“Recently a friend and critic who recently watched ‘Funny Games’ said to me ‘now the film is where it belongs.’ He is right. When I first envisioned ‘Funny Games’ in the middle of the 90s, it was my intention to have an American audience watch the movie. It is a reaction to a certain American Cinema, its violence, its naïveté, the way American Cinema toys with human beings. In many American films violence is made consumable….

TIFF: Short cuts

Jim Emerson

The cast of the Oscar-favorite film, “Home for Purim.”

“For Your Consideration” — Christopher Guest is blessed with the finest comedic stock company since the heyday of Preston Sturges. Guest, Catherine O’Hara (Goddess of Funny), Eugene Levy, Michael McKean, Harry Shearer, Parker Posey, Jennifer Coolidge, Jane Lynch, John Michael Higgins, Bob Balaban, Ed Begley Jr., Michael Hitchcock, Paul Dooley, Jim Piddock, Larry Miller… I get a thrill just seeing them share screen space in various combinations (and this time they’ve added Ricky Gervais and Sandra Oh to the mix). Every few years when they get together (the last time they were together was “A Mighty Wind” in 2003), it’s like seeing old friends for whom you will always harbor a deep and abiding affection. Here’s hoping they keep reuniting for many movies to come.

In “FYC,” the subject isn’t so much the movie industry (Guest already made the best American dissection of the contemporary film business back in 1989 with “The Big Picture”) as the awards and publicity industry. We join a film in production — a kind of kosher Tennessee Williams melodrama about a Jewish family in the South during the war, called “Home for Purim.” Somebody on the web (or the “World Wide Internet” as the typically clueless HollyLuddites call it) claims the lead actress (played by O’Hara), an ’80s sitcom star who’s been virtually forgotten by the public and the industry, may be giving an “Oscar-worthy” performance, and a rumor is born that (as in “The Big Picture”) takes on a life of its own.

Paranormal Activity: Boo!

Jim Emerson

The scariest thing about “Paranormal Activity” is how it plays on your fear of being afraid. The funniest — and naughtiest — thing about it is the poster — the shot of the occupied bed in the dark room above the title “Paranormal Activity.” But it turns out that what goes on in and around that bed is indeed what interests the camera. It also suggests to me something Errol Morris raised in his nonfiction film about Abu Ghraib, “Standard Operating Procedure”: Would all this be happening if cameras hadn’t been present to record it?

Hold that thought for a moment, and let’s look at the premise: Katie (Katie Featherstone) has recently shacked up with her boyfriend of three years Micah (Micah Sloat) in a newish San Diego tract home. He’s just bought a new video camera because, well, there are a few things Katie neglected to tell him about herself. Like, for instance, how something — a demon, probably — has been following her since she was eight years old. OK, so here’s the source of the conflict in their relationship now: He thinks that’s kinda neat and wants to get it on video, so he can deal with it and get rid of it and rescue his gal. He sees himself as the Man of the House, the Protector, after all. She doesn’t want to mess with it, and has contacted a psychic (by phone) who tells them that whatever’s following Katie is not human, that demons are not his métier (he’s a ghost guy), and that they should get ahold of this other fellow (a demonologist) who may be able to help them.

’50 Lost Movie Classics’

Jim Emerson

From the opening shot of “Cutter’s Way” — my favorite movie of the 1980s.

… and speaking of critical “best of” movie lists, here’s a swell one called “50 Lost Movie Classics,” from The Guardian. I might quibble with the terms “lost” (how “lost” can they be, when so many of them are available on DVD?) or “classics” (a “masterpiece” can be lost or overlooked, but can a “classic”?). But it is what it is. A group of British critics and filmmakers chose 50 movies (I have no quibbles with either of those terms) that… well, allow Philip French to explain:

This isn’t just another list of great movies. It’s a rallying cry for films that for a variety of reasons — fashion, perhaps, or the absence of an influential advocate, or just pure bad luck — have been unduly neglected and should be more widely available. You know that feeling when someone hasn’t heard of a film you’ve always loved and you want to show it to them? Or, in a different way, when you get annoyed because a picture hasn’t been accorded the position you think it deserves in cultural history or the cinematic canon? That’s the sort of film we have included on this list.And now, please permit me to add my own huzzahs for a few of the selections, several of which have also been featured on my personal “ten-best” lists over the years — or would have been, in the event that I had made one that year. (And some were released before I was born, OK?) Several of these have already been discussed here at Scanners. Here are just a few of the choices I’d particularly like to second:

“Petulia” (Richard Lester, 1968) — use the link to read about the opening shot.”The State of Things” (Wim Wenders, 1982) — one of the best movies about movies ever. And “Stranger Than Paradise” was made using the leftover b&w stock.”Newsfront” (Phillip Noyce, 1979) — charming account of Aussie newsreelers.”Fat City” (John Huston, 1972) — best boxing movie ever (and, yes, I include “Raging Bull” and “Rocky”).”Ace In the Hole” aka “The Big Carnival” (Billy Wilder, 1951) — no excuse for this to still be unavailable on DVD.”3 Women” (Robert Altman, 1977) — just watched it again the night Altman’s death was announced and was thrilled to find it as mesmerizing as ever…”Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me” (David Lynch, 1992) — although I think the series is by far the best work Lynch has ever done, I didn’t “get” this one when it came out. Now I think it’s genius (and should be double-billed with “Mulholland Drive”).”Safe” (Todd Haynes, 1995) — my choice for best movie of 1995.”Housekeeping” (Bill Forsyth, 1987) — my choice for best movie of 1987.”The Parallax View” (Alan J. Pakula, 1974) — NOT “Alan J. Parker” as The Guardian has it, fer cripes sake!!! Gripping paranoid thriller — with a fight atop my beloved Space Needle!”Dreamchild” (Gavin Millar, 1985) — nice double-bill with “Pan’s Labyrinth,” I think.”The Ninth Configuration” (William Peter Blatty, 1980) — I see a big moon risin’…”Cutter’s Way” (Ivan Passer, 1981) — my choice for the best movie of the 1980s.”Wise Blood” (John Huston, 1979) — I don’t think I’ve ever fully recovered from the scars this one left on me.”Two-Lane Blacktop” (Monte Hellman, 1971) — this does qualify as a cult classic.”‘Round Midnight” (Bertrand Tavernier, 1986) — Dexter Gordon as a version of Dexter Gordon, in gorgeous widescreen. One of the best evocations of cinema as jazz, and vice-versa.”Grace of My Heart” (Allison Anders, 1996) — pop music history mix-and-match (not unlike “Velvet Goldmine” in that respect) with terrific songs co-authored by Brill Building vets and contemporary artists. I watch this one over and over. Made me fall in love with Illeana Douglas.

Some of the choices I haven’t seen: “Ride Lonesome,” “Jeremy,” “Under the Skin,” “I Wanna Hold Your Hand,” “Let’s Scare Jessica to Death,” “The Low Down,” “Quiemada!,” “The Hired Hand,” “Le Petomane,” “Bill Douglas Trilogy,” “Babylon,” “Day Night Day Night” (just missed it in Toronto!), “The Day the Earth Caught Fire,” “The Mad Monkey,” “Terence Davies Trilogy” (not sure what individual titles they mean to include, but “The Long Day Closes” was my best movie of 1992 — or was it 1993 in the US?). And there are others the list reminds me to revisit (like Monte Hellman’s “Cockfighter”) because it’s simply been too long.

Take a peek and let us know which ones you treasure (or don’t) — and maybe suggest some additional titles for such a list…

Stepin Fetchit to Denzel Washington (Part I)

Jim Emerson

View image Denzel Washington in “American Gangster” (2007).

Richard Corliss at Time presents his choices for “The 25 Most Important Films on Race. “The films span nine decades, and reveal a legacy that was tragic before it was triumphant.” More about the list after the jump, but the following passage from RC’s intro struck a chord with me:

We need to examine the history of blacks in film to appreciate their deep roots. [Sidney] Poitier, [Will] Smith and Denzel Washington, all radiating a manly cine-magnetism, are the sons of Paul Robeson, who was the first great black movie star — or would have been, if Hollywood and America hadn’t been steeped in racism. Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy, the top comedy stars of the 80s, have a strange, subversive ancestor in Stepin Fetchit, America’s first black millionaire actor.Both Corliss and Odie Henderson (aka Odienator) take personal approaches to examining black film history, and so far (Odie is on his 11th consecutive day of a month-long “Black History Mumf” series) they haven’t even overlapped much. Odienator has written, analytically and often nostalgically, about the Hudlin Bros.’ Kid ‘n’ Play comedy “House Party” (1990), “football players-turned-actors, “Schoolhouse Rock,” actress Diana Sands,” Eddie Murphy’s “Coming to America” (1988), Joseph Mankiewicz’s “No Way Out,” (1950) with Sidney Poitier and Richard Widmark, the opening credits of Spike Lee’s “Crooklyn” (1994), “Sparkle” (1976), “The Jeffersons” and “Good Times” and the one with my favorite headline: One Drop of Black Cinema: Joel Schumacher. That’s just the beginning.

Odienator has been concentrating on films that aren’t necessarily in the traditional African-American Canon, but neither he nor Corliss have (so far) written about certain titles some might consider the obvious or officially sanctioned landmarks/classics: “Showboat” (1936), “Cabin in the Sky” (1942), “Porgy and Bess” (1959), “A Raisin in the Sun” (1961), “Lilies of the Field” (1963), “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” (1967), “Putney Swope” (1969), “Shaft” (1971), “Sounder” (1972), “The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman” (TV, 1974), “The Color Purple” (1985), “New Jack City” (1991), “Malcolm X” (1992), “Crash” (2005)…

Kubrick defends himself

Jim Emerson

“We were born of risen apes, not fallen angels, and the apes were armed killers besides…. The miracle of man is not how far he has sunk but how magnificently he has risen. We are known among the stars for our poems, not our corpses.”

That’s right. Either from beyond the grave (“Anything that says there’s anything after death is ultimately an optimistic story,” Kubrick said of “The Shining”), or from within it, Stanley Kubrick responds to a critic who accuses him and his films of nihilism:

Is this, I wonder, because he couldn’t actually find any internal evidence to support his trend-spotting? If not, then it is extraordinary that so serious a charge should be made against [my film] (and myself) inside so fuzzy and unfocussed a piece of alarmist journalism.The accuser is Fred M. Hechinger in the New York Times, the movie in question is “A Clockwork Orange,” and the date is February 27, 1972. “A Clockwork Orange” was the subject of red-hot debate all over the place, celebrated as a masterpiece and condemned as everything from “fascistic” to “anarchistic” to “nihilistic.”

(Oh, and If you haven’t already, be sure to “bone up” on the spirited discussion of Kubrick below. Is he just a big ol’ human-hater?)

I’d never read this letter before today, when I found it while searching through the New York Times archive. Naturally, one should always trust the art and not (just) the artist, but Kubrick has to much to say here about about his view of humankind, and this is so revealing of the vision expressed in his films, that I’m going to quote him at length:

Hechinger is probably quite sincere in what he feels. But what the witness feels, as the judge said, is not evidence — the more so when the charge is one of purveying “the essence of fascism.”

“Is this an uncharitable reading of the film’s thesis?” Mr. Hechinger asks himself with unwonted, if momentary, doubt. I would reply that it is an irrelevant reading of the thesis, in fact an insensitive and inverted reading of the thesis, which, so far from advocating that fascism be given a second chance, warns against the new psychedelic fascism — the eye-popping, multimedia, quadrasonic, drug-orienting conditioning of human beings by other beings — which many believe will usher in the forfeiture of human citizenship and the beginning of zombiedom.

Make what you will of Kubrick’s stated intentions, but note the value he places on humanity and free will. He continues:It is quite true that my film’s view of man is less flattering than the one Rousseau entertained in a similarly allegorical narrative [“Emile”] — but, in order to avoid fascism, does one have to view man as a noble savage, rather than an ignoble one? Being a pessimist is not yet enough to qualify one as a tyrant (I hope)…. [Times film critic Vincent Canby] classified “A Clockwork Orange” as “a superlative example” of the kind of movies that “seriously attempt to analyze the meaning of violence and the social climate that tolerates it.” He certainly did not denounce me as a fascist, no more than any well-balanced commentator who read “A Modest Proposal” would have accused Dean Swift of being a cannibal. […]Kubrick continues…

Nite Owl versus the Bat Man

Jim Emerson

“After the revelation of “The Dark Knight,” here is “Watchmen,” another bold exercise in the liberation of the superhero movie. It’s a compelling visceral film — sound, images and characters combined into a decidedly odd visual experience that evokes the feel of a graphic novel. It seems charged from within by its power as a fable; we sense it’s not interested in a plot so much as with the dilemma of functioning in a world losing hope.”

— Roger Ebert, RogerEbert.com

“This movie delivers as a splashy, bloody comic-book adventure that stays true to its roots without being slavish about it (despite numerous images taken directly from the comic’s pages). It’s both headlong and thought-provoking, attacking the notion of heroism and the role of the hero in society in ways that ‘The Dark Knight’ only talked about.”

— Marshall Fine, Hollywood and Fine

Let’s get the unavoidable DC Comics-based superhero movie comparisons over with: Despite superficial affinities (masked marvels, super-hype), “The Dark Knight” and “Watchmen” could not be further apart in style, ambition, or their approach to storytelling. One is set in a photorealistic Gotham City, shot on location in Chicago; the other in a sprawling fantasy universe that encompasses places called “New York,” “Antarctica” and “Mars,” but that exists only in the imagination. One takes place in a specific window of time; the other in a distorted, alternative 1985 (Richard Nixon is serving his fifth term as President of the United States) that re-invents the past and the future so as to turn the very concept of “time” inside-out. One is a mechanical, plot-driven action movie, edited in a woodchipper; the other is a dystopian science-fiction satire that doesn’t so much spin an intricately tangled web of interwoven stories as create an environment in which its various elements are set bouncing off one another in perpetuity. (“Nothing ends…”)

(Below: One of many period influences on “Watchmen” — Ridley Scott’s famous 1979 Chanel No. 5 commercial. It’s still the director’s finest work.)

Yes, I believe “Watchmen” is cleverly designed especially for people who have read the graphic novel — and I’m very glad I re-read it the week before seeing the movie. Instead of feeling like I already knew was “going to happen,” I felt a quickening sense of anticipation over how (or if) what I thought was going to happen was going to happen. I found myself mostly delighted by the multifarious choices the film was continually making, many of them playing on those very expectations with a subtle wink or a nod.

The Mystery of the Missing Mandy

Jim Emerson

View image: Harvey Keitel as a prison priest on the set of “It’s Pat” with Gene and Dean Ween. Unfortunately, this framing device got cut!

In my review of “You, Me and Dupree,” (which, to meet Sun-Times deadlines I had to write immediately after seeing the movie Monday night), I mentioned several indications that the movie had undergone some drastic cutting and revisions. I wrote:

Even more perplexing are the laborious set-ups for gags that are missing their payoffs — the most notable being an entire character (Mandy, the love of Dupree’s life for a few scenes) who never actually shows her face onscreen. We keep waiting for the punchline, but there isn’t one. It seems she has simply been cut out of the movie (wait for the DVD, kids!). Perhaps, at one time, she was Annie, the fifth-or sixth-billed character supposedly played by Amanda Detmer, whom I do not recall ever showing up for work.Since writing those words, I have Googled, I have investigated, and I can’t find any reports on what happened. It’s unusual to see somebody with such prominent billing and so little screen time (though, undoubtedly, other examples exist). Usually, somebody who has been cut out of the movie would also be removed from the credits — though still get paid. (That’s what happened when we had to cut Harvey Keitel’s priest scenes out of “It’s Pat,” although he was great in ’em.)

I asked Anne Thompson and she said she had no idea what had happened. I asked David Poland and he said he’d spotted Amanda Detmer (a favorite of his) in the opening wedding scenes, but didn’t know why she went away. It’s clear from the way “Mandy’s” scenes are shot, that her face is deliberately being shielded from view. But why? I’m throwing it out there to all you knowledgable cinephiles and voracious readers out there. Anybody know what the deal is?

What’s your game, baby? Cinephile or cinemaniac?

Jim Emerson

David Bordwell examines the crucial distinguishing characteristics of cinephiles and cinemaniacs, and catalogs the shared habits and competitive strategies of the former, in “Games cinephiles play.”

Which are you? (Not that you have to be one or the other.) DB will help you resolve any cine-related identity crisis from which you may be suffering.

He writes:

… I do see differences. For one thing, most cinemaniacs like only certain sorts of movies–usually American, often silent, sometimes foreign, seldom documentaries. Do cinemaniacs line up for Brakhage or Frederick Wiseman? My sense is not.

Cinephiles by contrast tend to be ecumenical. Indeed, many take pride in the intergalactic breadth of their tastes. Look at any smart critic’s ten-best lists. You’ll usually see an eclectic mix of arthouse, pop, and experimental, including one or two titles you have never heard of. Obscurity is important; a cinephile is a connoisseur.

The critic: Manohla Dargis on film criticism

Jim Emerson

I came across this interview, several years old, with New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis at senses of cinema. This was back when she was still writing for the LA Times, and I think she has some incisive things to say about the state of film criticism:

I wish there were more women –- as well as more black, Asian and other non-white male critics writing about film in this country –- not because of some “politically correct” imperative but because it makes the discussion more interesting. It’s unbelievably tedious how similar in voice and thought many American film writers are, no matter what clique, school of thought or dead film critic to which they adhere.

Frankly, I am pretty bored with most of the film criticism I read, to the point that I am beginning to think we need to start re-examining what it is and what it’s good for, if anything. Of course, most of what’s out there isn’t really criticism but a degraded form of reviewing – just thumbs up, thumbs down, with a heavy dose of plot synopsis. Even reviewers who are somewhat more ambitious than the average hack tend to write about movies as if they’re reviewing books. They pay very little if any attention to the specifics of the medium, to how a film makes meaning with images -– with framing, editing, mise en scène, with the way an actor moves his body in front of the camera. To read most film critics in the United States you wouldn’t know that film is a visual medium.

Opening Shots: ‘Annie Hall’

Jim Emerson

Alvy Singer speaks.

From Hiram M:

If a movie’s opening shot provides the compass with which to navigate the ensuing film, then this simple set up needs commending. Unexpected, efficient, and funny from frame one (relying as it does on the “Woody persona”), this fourth wall-breaker immediately establishes the anything goes storytelling so unique to “Annie Hall.”

JE: Good one, Hiram. The shot doesn’t have to be complicated (or even long) to do what it has to do. This shot from “Annie Hall” not only sets up Alvy’s profession and character (a writer and stand-up comedian with an anhedonic view of life), it establishes him as the narrator even when he’s offscreen. (Seinfeld would later borrow the device of having the story grow out of the framing device of Jerry’s monologue.) We’ll return to this shot near the end. And, of course, Alvy (and other characters) will break the fourth wall at key moments in the movie (most memorably in the Marshall McLuhan scene with the pompous guy in the movie line), reminding us that this is Alvy’s subjective take on his relationship with Annie. As he illustrates, she sees things quite differently. Here, for the record, is what Alvy says to frame the funny valentine to the girlfriend he can’t quite get over:

ALVY

There’s an old joke. Uh, two elderly

women are at a Catskills mountain

resort, and one of ’em says: “Boy, the

food at this place is really terrible.”

The other one says, “Yeah, I know, and

such … small portions.” Well, that’s

essentially how I feel about life. Full

of loneliness and misery and suffering

and unhappiness, and it’s all over much

too quickly. The-the other important

joke for me is one that’s, uh, usually

attributed to Groucho Marx, but I think

it appears originally in Freud’s wit and

its relation to the unconscious. And it

goes like this-I’m paraphrasing: Uh …

“I would never wanna belong to any club

that would have someone like me for a

member.” That’s the key joke of my adult

life in terms of my relationships with

women.

You better you better you best: The better of the best lists

Jim Emerson

If all the year-end and decade-end lists (even though we realize the decade isn’t actually over until 2011) have left you dizzied and depleted, take heart! Perhaps you’ve missed out on some of the more invigorating, far-sighted list-based ventures. Over at Some Came Running, for example, Glenn Kenny conducted an ingenious and fascinating project, going back and taking a look at the late Manny Farber’s Best Films of 1951. Meanwhile, at The Crop Duster, Robert Horton is engaged in surveying the year’s best — in non-chronological order — from, oh, about 1919 or so, to the present, posting a new list every Sunday. What fantastic delights are to be found in these itemized accounts…

Red eye in the sky

Jim Emerson

My review of “Red Road” at RogerEbert.com:

Vertigo, they say, is not really a fear of falling; it’s a fear of jumping. The gap between the subject and the ground creates such strong psychological conflict in the afflicted that the temptation to eliminate it by leaping into the void is overpowering, and dizziness sets in.

A similar dynamic exists between the voyeur and the object of his or her scrutiny. In the chilling and dread-laden “Red Road,” Jackie (Kate Dickie), a closed-circuit television operator in Glasgow, sits before a bank of video screens connected to surveillance cameras across the city. Her job at “City Eye Control, Division E,” is to monitor the feeds for suspicious activities, and to report what she sees to the proper authorities. She scans some of the city’s worst neighborhoods for signs of trouble, with an eye toward averting it before the victims need to call for help.

From the very first scene, we feel an ambivalent tension between Jackie and the people on her screens. She can’t help empathizing with the overweight young woman who works as a night janitor, donning headphones and dancing to her MP3 player in an empty office building. Or the man who walks his old and ailing English bulldog. But Jackie remains at a distance. They have no idea she’s watching.

We immediately sense that Jackie is harboring a darkness and despair that isolates her from everyone else. She uses the wall of video images as a buffer between herself and the outside world — or between herself and her own life. Until she spots a red-haired man named Clyde (Tony Curran), and — feverishly, compulsively — penetrates the screen and, for reasons unknown, begins to insinuate herself into his life. It’s an excruciating process, but she seems driven to forge ahead, even when she feels she can’t go through with it.

Continued at RogerEbert.com…

Odienator’s time of the mumf

Jim Emerson

“The truth is, Black History Month was started by Dr. Carter G. Woodson, a Black historian fed up with the lack of historical representation of people of color. In 1926, he pioneered Negro History Week, putting it on the same week as Lincoln and Frederick Douglass’ birthdays. That’s how February became associated with Black History Month, not some attempt to play us cheap. So, my apologies to Dr. Woodson. Mea culpa to the Man as well, though as my Mom used to tell me after erroneously beating my ass for something I didn’t do, “you probably deserved this for something I didn’t catch.’ “

Odienator is back, and he’s beautiful! The self-described “bald, Black, half-blind kid” has returned to Big Media Vandalism for his second annual “It’s Black History Mumf, Odienator” Film Festival, aka “Odie 2: Electric Boogaloo.” (And he’s filing some of it from a business trip to Dublin, Internet willing!)

“Since Obama has made Black History every month until at least January 2013,” he writes, “I am now claiming February as my own.” Yes he does. So far you’ll find inimitably Odienesque personal essays on “Devil In a Blue Dress,” “Beat Street, “Baadasssss!,” “Eve’s Bayou,” “Cotton Comes to Harlem,”Something the Lord Made,” “Lady Sings the Blues,” “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka,” Scary Black Movies (including “Blacula,” “Abby” and “Candyman”) — and appreciations of “Sanford and Son,” actor Roscoe Lee Browne, and the late Bernie Mac, Isaac Hayes and Rudy Ray Moore, aka Dolemite. (Odiebama also makes a couple guest appearances.)

Two Python lines:

Jim Emerson

1) “My brain hurts.”

2) “I’m feeling much better.”